Alice in Wonderland
by Daddy's Little Cannibal
Summary: Alice falls down a rabbit hole and ends up in an alternative universe where she meets Jasper. A mix of popular fairytales set in an alternative universe. Alice/Jasper. Dark.
1. The Rabbit Hole

**A/N:** I had a choice of either writing an angsty chapter of Till Death, especially when I'm not in a good mood, or write a story where it's a weird fantasy thing. I decided to go with the fantasy, just because I can't handle the drama- even fictional drama, right now. I've always wanted to do a fantasy story. A true fantasy story, not like what I attempted with Imagination Land (which I do like). After I finished Boy Meets Girl, I felt empty because I couldn't write about Jasper and Alice anymore. Then this idea came to mind. I found out that Tim Burton was doing a remake of Alice in Wonderland (which I have no idea what it's about, nor do I really care to read the book or watch any of the movies) and I just knew that I wanted to write a weird, dark, twisted tale of Alice in Wonderland and since I don't know the story, I could have complete creative control. So in short, it's Alice in Wonderland, without being Alice in Wonderland.

**Summary:** Alice falls down a rabbit hole and ends up in an alternative universe where she meets Jasper. A mix of popular fairytales set in an alternative universe. Alice/Jasper. Dark.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Twilight_.

"Tut, tut, child! Everything's got a moral, if only you can find it."  
-Alice in Wonderland

**Alice in Wonderland  
**Prologue:  
The Rabbit Hole

My favorite fairytale was _Alice in Wonderland_, not because the main character and I both shared the same name, I loved the idea of a white rabbit, wearing a waistcoat, leading a small girl into a rabbit hole that took her to a different world.

After my mom read me the book, I spent hours with my little sister, Cynthia, looking for the white rabbit that would take us to his rabbit hole so we could go to Wonderland or at least so we could meet Bugs Bunny.

When I got older, I eventually grew out of the habit of looking for the rabbit, but I never forgot the feeling I had when I believed that I could find a hole that would take me to Wonderland. I had to share that feeling with others, so I started to write children stories. I was working on one right now, something similar to _Alice in Wonderland_, but more modern and not so much like an acid trip.

I was sitting under a tree in a meadow near my parent's house. I was over here for a family reunion and as much as I love my family, I wasn't interested in hearing them bicker with each other. Besides, I had to think about the setting that I was going to have my characters live in. I wanted something bright and colorful. I wanted it to be somewhere where children could escape to when they felt threatened or afraid. I wanted children to love my world like I loved Wonderland.

I closed my eyes and let my head hit the trunk behind me. A breeze blew the bangs out of my face. I sighed in content and stretched my arms over my head. I was going to fall asleep. I knew I was. I started to imagine what the world that I was creating would be like. The bright trees, the bright sky, the bright dresses, the bright everything. I wanted it to be beautiful and bright.

Something soft brushed against my leg. I opened an eye and looked at my feet. A white rabbit was eating a spear of grass next to me. I smiled as I picked it up and held it in my arms. It fought against me before it jumped out of my arms and started to hop away. I threw the spiral and color pencils sitting my lap onto the grass and followed after the rabbit.

I didn't know why I was following the rabbit. I guess it was my way of reliving my childhood. I had a flashback of Cynthia and me following after rabbits before we lost them when they slid under a bush.

The rabbit jumped into a hole under a hedge before I was able to grab it. I didn't go into the rabbit hole. There was really no point; the rabbit didn't want to be bothered and I had a story to write. I got to my feet, brushed the dirt off my knees, and walked back to my tree where I sat down and sketched what I imagined my Wonderland would look like.

--

I was sharing a bed with Cynthia tonight. There weren't enough beds in the house for everyone to have their own. It'd been awhile since we shared a bed and we weren't as close as we used to be, so it was awkward.

Cynthia was going to college in hopes of getting a law degree. I was writing children novels while I was taking courses at a community college. We were going two different directions with our lives. According to her, a children's author was one step below someone that acted on the Disney Channel.

"I saw a white rabbit earlier today," I told Cynthia as I stared at her reflection in the mirror. She rolled her eyes. I bit my lip, but didn't let the subject drop. "I'm thinking about writing my own version of _Alice in Wonderland_. It won't be like the original, but it will be similar. I drew a sketch of what I want it to look like." I grabbed the piece of notebook paper that I had ripped out of my spiral and handed it to her.

"Pretty," she said as she put it back on the desk to my vanity. "Very colorful."

I turned around. Cynthia was pulling her long hair up into a high ponytail. I ran my fingers awkwardly through my short black hair. I used to have long hair too, but I accidently burned it when I leaned over a gas stove and it caught on fire. The hair dresser that cut it saved as much as she could, which wasn't that much.

"Do you want to be a character?" I asked. "You really liked the Queen of Hearts; I can make you the King of Spades and change your name to Cody."

Cynthia didn't laugh. She didn't even crack a smile. She just let out an "humph" and crawled under the covers.

I rolled my eyes as I pushed myself away from the vanity desk. I turned off the lights and used the light from the moon that was shining in from the window to crawl back into bed with her. We were both lying as close to the edge as we could, an awkward silence filled the room as we waited to fall asleep.

"G'night," I said as I looked at her back.

"Night," Cynthia said in a monotone voice.

I was sad that we weren't closer. It's not like I didn't try, I called her on her cell phone (she doesn't have texting), I've e-mailed her, and I've invited her to my book signings, but she was always too busy to spend any time with me. It was depressing.

Cynthia's sleep medication must have kicked in because she was snoring. I rolled over onto my back and started at the ceiling. There were glow-in-the-dark stars staring back at me. Cynthia and I put them up there when we were little. Neither of us was tall enough to reach the ceiling, even with the step stool, so we jumped on the bed and hoped that the stars would stick when we bounced high enough to reach the ceiling.

I closed my eyes and cuddled closer to the bed. I thought about the plot to my story. I could see the rabbit hole that I wanted my character fall into, I saw the portal that took her to her new world, I saw all the colors, and the other characters.

I was about to play out one of the scenes in my head when I felt something brush against my leg.

I crossed my legs and tried to get back into the story that I was creating. The main character, Lindsey, was about to meet the rabbit that took her to the new world when I felt it again. My eyes shot open and I moved the blanket so I could see what was brushing against it.

A white rabbit was sitting next to my leg with a spear of grass in its mouth. I frowned at it. "What are you doing here?" I asked. I half expected it to scream "I'm late!" at the top of its lungs, but it just stared at me as it ate the grass.

I pushed Cynthia's shoulder. "Cynthia," I whispered loudly as I pushed her shoulder again. "Cynthia, do you see the rabbit next to me?"

She let out a loud snore and swatted my hand away.

I rolled my eyes and looked at the rabbit. It was still staring at me, his small mouth chewing on the same spear of grass. He jumped off of the bed and landed on the floor. He turned around so he could look at me. I got the hint.

I threw the covers on Cynthia and followed the rabbit.

As I ran down the stairs I started to think of all the stories I've read or heard where an animal leads a girl to a portal that leads to another world. I was so excited that I almost ran into the closed front door. In the stories I've read, there were no closed doors.

I opened the door and let the rabbit out. It shot across the field towards the meadow. The dry grass stuck at my feet as I ran after it. I didn't want to lose the only opportunity I would have to live out my fantasy, so I ignored it and ran faster.

It wasn't difficult to keep up with it. What was difficult was trying to keep up with it while weaving myself through the different trees that were scattered around. I thought about asking it to slow down, but if it didn't work in the books, I doubt it would work now.

The rabbit finally stopped in front of the rabbit hole under the hedge. It looked at me and then at the hedge.

"Am I supposed to go through that?" I asked.

It didn't say anything.

I measured the width of the hole with my eyes. I think this was the only moment that I was grateful to be so small.

I dropped to my knees, mentally thanked God that I was wearing pajama pants, and crawled through the hole into the darkness.

**End Prologue.**

**A/N:** Like the summaries says, this is a bunch of popular fairytales all rolled into one. It's rated T because I don't want people to think I'm going to write a lemon. Also, there is really no language. It is extremely dark though, this isn't like one of those fairytales that you'll see on Disney. I'm excited for this story and I would love to hear (POSITIVE) reviews about this story. :)

If you read Worlds Collide, Bronze is on spring break, so we're going to hold out the next update until next week.

If you read Till Death Do Us Part, I'm still working on the chapter. It's a difficult chapter, so give me a little time to finish it. :)

Daddy's Little Cannibal


	2. The Candy Cottage

**A/N:** Thank Bronzehairedgirl620, seriously, without her this story would suck. She is amazing. The beginning of this chapter, which she wrote, is just amazing. She is amazing, I love her, gosh, she is amazing. Thank her for this chapter. I had the hardest time writing the beginning of this chapter. I had everything else written, except for the beginning and she came in her shining armor and wrote it, amazingly. Better than I could ever thought of. Seriously, thank her. :)

Also, the reason that it took so long, besides that I couldn't think of a good beginning, is because of my finger. Yeah, it wasn't pretty. That's also why we didn't update Worlds Collide. I was at the hospital a good portion of the day yesterday, so yeah. Sorry.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Twilight_.

"Come in! Come in, you've nothing to fear!"  
-Hansel and Gretel

**Alice in Wonderland  
**Chapter One:  
The Candy Cottage

Everywhere I turned there was darkness. There was no light, no warmth, and even if the sun was shining, I wouldn't be able to see it. The dark, thick cloud cover made it impossible.

The wind, although mild in strength, chilled me to the bone. I shuddered; goose bumps crawled along my skin as I chaffed my arms, trying not to think about the cold and how I didn't want to be here. The trees were tall and powerful, looming on either side of me, showing no ways of escaping whatever I had fallen into. The branches twisted menacingly around each other, the leaves dead and decaying, the bark black and rotted.

I peered forward, my breathing shallow as I squinted, trying to see through the blackness and catch sight of the rabbit. I turned around in circles, trying to at least find the general direction of where he'd run off to, but was unsuccessful. Everything looked the same. Damp, dark and dismal. I couldn't tell one way from another, making me even more aggravated.

I continued to stumble forward, not sure where I was headed. It didn't really matter at this point. My eyes were trained ahead of me, hoping to find an out, but there was nothing. It was an endless forest, and my hope was quickly decreasing.

I don't know how long I walked for, my quest of finding the rabbit long forgotten, but I kept going. Finally I looked forward, expecting to see the eternal blackness with the shadows the mangled trees cast on the wet ground, but there was a small speck of light in pace of the dark.

I rubbed my eyes, praying they weren't playing tricks on me, and stepped over dead, broken branches as I made my way over to the clearing. When I walked closer, I was able to make out the shape of a cottage.

But what was even stranger was that it appeared to be made of candy.

I blinked, making sure it was real, before laughing humorlessly. All that was missing was Hansel and Gretel.

A rancid smell was coming from the cottage. I contemplated on whether or not I should enter. I didn't want to be rude and barged in, but I also didn't want to risk something bad happening to the people that lived there.

The smell only got worse the longer I waited to make a decision. There was nothing that I could compare the smell to. It was just a horrible and rancid smell. I couldn't bear to breathe through my nose and I didn't want to breathe through my mouth. It was so strong that I could taste it.

I held onto my nose as I inched my way to the cottage. I thought of excuses I could tell anyone who was inside as to why I was bargaining in on them with no announcement or invitation. The smell only got worse the close I got. By the time I was at the door, my eyes were watering and I was holding my breath. I turned the Jelly Bean doorknob, quickly and pushed the door open.

Dead children were lined up on the floor. Their eyes were closed, their bodies were bloated, and they were death white. They couldn't have been older than eight and younger than five. A man, who was sitting in front of a fire place, grabbed one of the bodies and stuffed it into the fire. He poked at their burning flesh with a fire poker.

I wanted to scream, but I was so afraid of the smell that I kept it in. It didn't stop me from falling back and crying. I knew where the smell was coming from now, which didn't make it any better. I held both of my hands over my face, to block out not only the smell but what was happening. I was sobbing into my hands and leaning onto the door frame, which was made out of graham crackers, for support.

"You might want to close the door," the man said. "We don't want to attract any more attention."

I shook my head. I didn't want to open my eyes or get up. "No," I sobbed. "I can't." I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my head in them. This wasn't my Wonderland. This couldn't be my Wonderland.

Footsteps echoed through the room. I knew that he was walking towards me. I didn't look away from my knees. My whole body was shaking now, whether it was from the sobs or the fear, I didn't know. A hand rested on my back and the footsteps stopped. I refused to look up.

"If we don't close the door, he'll come back," the man said.

"You can smell it even with the door closed," I yelled at him through my hands. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to have to see it again.

"I know he can smell it, that's not what I'm worried about."

He wrapped his hands under my knees and behind my back. I didn't make any sound when he lifted me from the ground.

I put my hands over my face. I felt like a little kid. I could hide from all the bad things in the world and nothing could hurt me as long as I had my hands over my eyes.

The door clicked shut as he let me down on a chair. I pulled my feet onto the seat and buried my face into my knees. I could feel the heat from the fireplace. It made me nauseous.

"Here," the man said.

I refused to pull my head away from my knees.

"Take it," he ordered. "It'll block out the smell and prevent ashes from flying into your mouth."

I gagged.

He grabbed my wrist, pulled it away from my face, and stuffed something into my hand. My fingers curled over the object.

I lifted my face from my knees and looked at it. It was a mask, the same type of mask someone might use when they're using spray paint or cleaning their bathroom. I looked at the man that gave it to me. He was wearing the same mask.

I put it over my mouth as I stared at him. He was as pale as the bodies lined behind him and as beautiful as a Mississippi sunset. He looked human, the only thing different about him was the crimson eyes that were hiding behind his blond bangs.

"Are you okay?" he asked. His voice was like smooth jazz.

"I'm fine," I nodded. I was still shaking.

I glanced behind him; a little girl was lying next to the fireplace. She was wearing a pink dressed that had been ripped at the hem. Dirt covered her cheeks and her lips were blue. I looked away and bit back a sob.

"Why are you," I swallowed another sob, "why are you burning their bodies?" I asked.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

I shook my head, still looking anywhere but at the fire place.

"That explains a lot," he mumbled to himself.

I looked at him. He was standing in front of me. He towered over me, which wasn't that surprising; almost everyone was taller than me. I've met kids taller than me.

He walked back to the fire place and grabbed the girl. I looked at the floor, again. There was no way that I could watch him burn children, even if they were dead.

"You never answered my question. Why are you burning children?"

He was quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the crackling of the fire as the flesh burned. Ashes flew in front of my face. I swallowed back dinner.

"Habit," he said. "The only way to kill a vampire is to burn their body."

"They're vampires?" I screamed pulling my eyes away from the floor and looking at him. He was poking at the girl with the fire poker. He seemed immune to the fact that the way that her body was angled, she was staring right as us.

He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "No, of course not," he shook his head and went back to looking at the fire. The girl was almost all ash. "They were bitten by a vampire; this is to make sure they don't turn." He gestured to the fire.

"Vampire?" I asked.

He blinked. "Vampire," he nodded. "I don't know which one it was, I don't recognize his scent. I think it was a newborn, that's probably why there is so such a high death rate." He grabbed another corpse and threw it into the fire. I couldn't look at him anymore.

"You're telling me a vampire murdered a cottage filled with children?" I asked.

"Is it really that surprising? You've must have heard that the stories of Maria and her vampire army. This is nothing compared to what she's accomplished. Whole villages were destroyed because of her. This is just a few children."

"I wonder where their mother is…" I whispered.

"Either dead or a vampire, though, I doubt it makes much of a difference." He let out a snort.

"How do you know it was a vampire? It could just be like someone that likes to pretend they're a vampire." The thought of there actually being a vampire, even in this make believe world, was impossible for me to handle. I followed the rabbit in hopes of finding my own wonderland, but instead what I found is a world where vampires exist and dead children are burned.

He threw a little boy on the floor in front of me. I looked away, quickly. My hand went over the mask and I tried to hold my stomach back.

"Do you want to know how I know a vampire did this?" he asked.

I didn't want to know.

He wrapped his hand around the collar of the boy's shirt and pulled it down to reveal teeth marks on the boy's neck. It wasn't fang marks like someone would see in a movie, it was actual teeth marks. A full set of perfectly aligned teeth. A dentist would be proud to see it.

"Their blood has been drained," he said, monotone. "And they each have a set of bite marks on their neck." He pulled the boy away from me. I watched his lifeless body slid across the floor before it landed into the fire.

"How are you so comfortable with throwing children into fires?" I asked. I couldn't imagine anyone being that heartless, except for maybe the person- vampire that killed them.

He looked back at me. "They're not my children." He shrugged. "And it's not like I was the ones that killed them," he quickly added.

I shook my head. "I can't imagine anyone would be that heartless."

"I'm not being heartless, I'm being honest." He poked the corpse in the eye with his fire poker.

"It must be really lonely to live your life, then." I wrapped my arms around my knees and rested my chin on my knee caps.

"Where are you from?" he ignored my previous comment. "You're obviously not from around here."

"Biloxi," I answered.

"Never heard of it," he said as he turned back to the fire.

"I didn't think you would…" I looked up at the ceiling and let out a gasp. There were huge bird cages hanging from the ceiling. "What was this place?" I asked, breathless.

"The witch's cottage," he said. "She lured little children into her cottage with her candy house, fattened them up, and then ate them."

"Kind of like what happened with Hansel and Gretel," I whispered to myself.

"So you heard about what happened to the Kendrick children?" he sounded surprised.

"The Kendrick children?" I asked.

"Yes, Hansel and Gretel Kendrick. They were the children that escaped the cottage and told everyone about the witch. They're also the children that pushed her into the fire."

"I thought they were the only ones that the witch had imprisoned," I said. It'd been awhile since I've heard the story of Hansel and Gretel, it wasn't my favorite.

"They were the only ones that escaped, not the only ones that the witch had, obviously." He pointed to the line of children that were waiting their turns to be thrown into the fire.

I ran my fingers through my hair and let out a long breath. I wanted to go back home. I wanted as far away from this place as humanly possible. I wanted to crawl back into the bed that Cynthia and I shared and pretend like none of this ever happened and that it was all a dream. I wanted to forget everything that happened with the children. I was wrong in thinking that I wanted to be in a fairytale, dead wrong.

"What's your name?" he asked. I looked at him. He was staring at me.

"Alice," I said. "Alice Brandon. What about you? What's your name?"

"Jasper, Jasper Whitlock," he answered. I expected him to hold out his hand for me, but he didn't. He turned back to the fire. He was quiet. "How can you be so comfortable around me?" he said, looking back at me. "You don't seem the least bit intimidated…"

"Why would I be?" I asked. He hadn't given me a reason to be intimidated.

"Because I'm a vampire."

**End Chapter.**

**A/N:** Wooh! Not even kidding when I say that was a hard chapter. A special thanks to Bronze for being amazing and writing the first part for me. I'm not kidding when I said that this was a hard chapter. It's not that I don't like the story or I don't know what I want to happen, it's just a matter of putting what's in my head on the document. But, it's done, and I'm happy with how it turned out. Thank you for reading and reviews always make me smile, unless it's a mean review, then I get sad.

Man, right before I finished proof reading this, I found out my great aunt died. Man…

Daddy's Little Cannibal


	3. Eulogy

_Someone requested that I write a eulogy and post it on Stephanie's account. After giving it some thought, I decided that I would post one, just because it really does seem like she made an impact in people's lives on here and her stories seem empty without some author note telling them about her death._

"We all die. The goal isn't to live forever. the goal is to create something that will."  
-Chuck Palahniuk, one of Stephanie's favorite authors.

I had no intention to write a eulogy or to post it on Stephanie's fanfiction account. I didn't think that anyone would care about her death beyond an "I'm sorry" or "everyone has to die eventually." But I'm glad to say that I was wrong. The support for Stephanie's death has been over whelming. I don't think anyone, especially Stephanie, expected her to make this big of an impact on so many people's lives.

It's weird that I'm writing a eulogy on fanfiction. Like I said earlier, I had no intention to tell anyone about Stephanie's death beyond Lindsey's (I think her screen name is Bronze something) author note. We're actually lucky that Stephanie has the same password that she's had since fifth grade or else I wouldn't have been able to hack into her account. XD

If there was any doubt in anyone's mind, Stephanie really did love fanfiction. She used to come to me in random moments and squeal about a good review and then quote it for me. When she got a bad review, she would cry and I'll be honest, I couldn't understand why, she just couldn't handle it. But she never gave up; she never even mentioned giving up. She knew that she would have to leave fanfiction again (she had an account previous to this account, but she wasn't as dedicated to it as she was this) but, to her, that was years from now.

I had never seen anyone have such raw talent for writing and a passion to match it. It is no secret that she has grown as a writer (especially her grammar) and I'm sure that she would have, with dedication and practice, become a bestselling author- if that's the career she chose to follow.

Stephanie was an amazing person. She went through a lot in her short life, more than most people go through in a long life. That's one of the reasons that made her amazing. She apologized for the bad choices she made, she learned from her mistakes, and she never gave up. She was a strong person that fought and worked for everything she got. I had never seen her excited about something that wasn't illegal till she found writing and I want to thank everyone that encouraged her to write, because your encouragement helped her deal with her demons.

Stephanie was always imaginative. When we were little she was the one that told us how we were to play pretend. I cannot tell you how many times we locked her up in our shed where she was supposedly murdered before someone could save her- that made a lot of people mad, especially our friend's parents, because the neighbor kids would get angry or cry.

What you see in her stories is what you would see in her if you knew her. She was extremely funny, extremely happy, and loving. She was the type of person that would welcome anyone and everyone into her life with open arms. I cannot tell you how many times she would leave the house at six in the morning to drive three hours away to pick up someone that was drunk and couldn't find a ride home or to comfort someone that needed someone to talk to, even if it was as small as their cat died. She put people before her and was genuine about it. She didn't expect things back; she didn't want things back, which is rare.

I wish that you could've met her. She was genuinely an amazing person. She went through a lot, but that only made her stronger and more amazing. I'm sure I can speak for all when I say that we will miss her and that she is in a better place where she can, hopefully, meet Kurt Cobain, the man that she has admired and looked up to since she was little.

"When other little girls wanted to be ballerinas, I wanted to be Jeffry Dahmer."  
-Stephanie (Daddy's Little Cannibal)

_Lindsey (Bronzehairedgirl620) has agreed to write a eulogy for Stephanie. Expect to see that within the next few days. I have asked for the obituary and any information on the funeral not be mentioned for privacy reasons. I realize that you do care about her, but this is the internet and not everyone is as nice as they may seem. Again, thank you for all the support you have given my family, I deeply appreciate it. I have written a one-shot, on request, on my personal fanfiction account called _Close Call, _if you would like to read it, my penname is kikyoskiller and I am on Stephanie's favorite author list._

_Unfortunately, I do not have the password to Stephanie's e-mail (there's a cute story behind that). So I cannot reply back to any PMs that you send, if you would like to send me a PM, please send it through my own account. Again, thank you for all the amazing support._

_Rest in Peace, Stephanie._


	4. Eulogy Number 2

_Bronzehairedgirl620's eulogy for Stephanie's (Daddy's Little Cannibal not Stephenie Meyer) death.  
September 11, 1990 - May 8, 2009  
_

**Persevere: **To persist in anything undertaken; maintain a purpose in spite of difficulty, obstacles or discouragement. To continue steadfastly.

Daddy's Little Cannibal was undoubtedly the best author on FF, and will continue to be remembered for many years to come. I told her this numerous times, and although she didn't believe me, the overwhelming amount of support we've received over the past few days definitely shows that.

I've been asked by both Stephanie's sister and a few readers to write a eulogy from a slightly different perspective. Daddy's Little Cannibal was killed in a drunk driving accident on May 8th, and will forever be remembered by everyone who was fortunate enough to know her.

I wish you all could've known her like I did. She was an amazing person, so full of life and imagination. Her creativity was unbelievable, her story ideas original and flawlessly written, and her personality was even better. She was funny, kind, understanding, and didn't let anything faze her. Whenever she'd receive a flame, she'd talk about it but move on, not wanting it to dampen her spirits. Whenever I'd send her a page long rant at 3am, she'd listen and say more than 'I'm sorry.' Whenever my writing was horrible and off, she'd wait for me to figure it out and help me instead of getting irritated. She was the best collaboration partner I could've asked for, and I'm honored that I was the person she chose to write stories with.

If there are two things Stephanie wanted to pass onto everyone, it's to write for yourself and to persevere. She told everyone not to listen to what the readers want, but to write what the _author _thinks is fair, and if it's justified, the readers will understand. She taught FF to push forward no matter what, to _persevere_. It was that optimistic attitude that kept my love of writing growing, as it fueled many around the world. We wanted to get matching tattoos with the word, just to remember that at the end of the day, flames and bad reviews aren't worth it. Stephanie never let anything get her down, and truly lived her own advice.

If there's anything she wanted to tell the Fanfiction world, it's to continue despite all obstacles. To never back down and never give up, just as Stephanie never did.

Stephanie was a phenomenal person in addition to being an amazing writer. She'd make me laugh with jokes about seeing movies with Canadian being a language and her dog humping analogies, as well as our love of Mel Brooks films. We planned on going to Florida and learning how to wrestle, as well as me going down, staying with her, and getting hit on by gay guys at the Lizard Lounge.

And that if we were lesbians, we decided we'd be together. ;)

She claimed she dragged me into everything, but I'm so glad she did. If she hadn't, I wouldn't have known what an amazing person she was. She truly was one of my closes friends. If I had never harassed her to let me beta the original Cigarette Burns, I would've never gotten to know her as well as I have, and for that I am truly grateful.

She was a flabbergastingly awesome person, and yes, that's a word. Stephanie said so. She inspired many around the world to put themselves out on a limb and write, and I know she'll be missed by all who had the chance to read one of her stories.

She made Fanfiction and the Twilight community a better place. Her work will go on to be remembered, and she's made her mark. She's a legend. I know if she were here right now, she'd be looking at the number of people who have given her family and me support and wondering why people cared so much.

It's because we love you, Steph. :)

I hope you all remember her as an amazing author and even better person. And yes, Stephanie, I fully plan on writing that editorial on you being the unicorn queen. You just wait.

"_And so the artist fell in love with the drug addict."_

"_What a stupid artist."_

"_What a sick, manipulative drug addict."_

-Daddy's Little Cannibal, 'Cigarette Burns'


	5. Do You Have Cigarette Burns?

_Sorry for another author's note, but this is important._

Thank you for your support through this hard time, especially those who reported the flamer (she's been deleted from FanFiction). I just have one favor. Steph, Daddy's Little Cannibal, lost her copy of Cigarette Burns a few months before she passed away. Her computer crashed and both versions of the story were lost. I was wondering if anyone had a copy of her fan fiction version. I know that Lindsey (Bronzehairedgirl620) already asked, but we really want a copy.

Please and thank you,

Jo (kikyouskiller).


	6. Cigarette Burns Has Been Posted

This is the last author note that I will ever post on any of Stephanie's (Daddy's Little Cannibal) stories. After this note, her account will officially be unactive.

We have found a copy of Cigarette Burns and instead of posting it on Stephanie's account, I have asked Bronzehairedgirl620 to post it on her account. So if you would like to read it, it would be a good idea to head over to Bronzehairedgirl620's account and click on the story titled "Cigarette Burns." You can find her account in Daddy's Little Cannibal's favorite author list.

As of now, this account will no longer be updated or accessed.

Thank you for the support. It has been greatly appreciated, not just by me, but my family as well.

I hope that you enjoy Daddy's Little Cannibal's "lost" story and don't be afraid to review, because I can almost promise that Stephanie is looking down at us and reading them. :)


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